The Commune Of Illuminati Ganga
In the middle of the courtyard stood a magnificent alabaster fountain, mounted in a ring by the Three Graces holding cornucopias and spouting water through their breasts, mouths, eyes, ears and any opening obvious to the naked eye.
ŴĦƟǞHƜ datssa lotta water!!
The buildings surmounting this court were erected upon strapping pillars of chalcedony and porphyry, forming capacious arches about long wide and deep galleries rich with paintings and trophies of various beasts: horns of bucks, unicorns, rhinocerri, satyrs, jazz trumpeters, Vikings, and various miscellaneous and pernicious Satans gathered from the hells of a thousand universes; as well there were stuffed and mounted elephants, both Asian and African, Famous dogs, artificial lifeforms, racists, and punk rockers in full regalia and other suchlike were there for any amateur biologist looking to rewrite the Origin of Species from evidence gathered haphazard and second-hand.
The women’s quarters ran from “artice” all the way to the “messembrine” gate; the rest of the commune held men’s quarters. In front of this part, between the two spread outer-towers, lay the recreational facilities: the tilting yard, the riding school, the boxing ring, the theatres of both pain and absurdity, and the Natatorium which contained wonderful oval saunas and womblike swimming pools on three different levels with every sort of exercise equipment and incensed with oils delicious to both the nose and the lips.
The two towers themselves held the apartments of those among the Illuminati who had wed, as well as the Amatorium for those who wished to sport in those games married couples should be expert in but alas, are often not — or at least not with their legal partner.
So pleasant are the people hereabouts that the Amatorium cannot contain the abundant sport and much lovemaking takes place in the open fields both day and night.
Near the river was the fine pleasure garden, with, in the middle, a maze. Tennis courts and soccer fields spread out between the next two towers. Close to Cryere, an orchard proffers a mass of fruit trees laid in quincunxes, with, at its end, a sizable park flush with venison. Many famous songs celebrate the quincunxes of that area, and the poets often come with lyrics on how especially pretty the venison is thereabouts when flushed.
The space between the third pair of towers being newer and more narrow than the others was reserved for the shooting ranges: and at great festivals when all the local buffs would show to strut their accomplishments it was a rather tight fit therein, and they often complained that hitting the mark was nothing to jostlings received from the multitudinous competitors all trying to do the same; when last I was there one old gaffer remarked only half- facetiously “is more liken race dan a shoutan match I wunt”
This article was written by IG Agents 71, 81, and 6.
